


Literally Just Peter Pan Angst

by athenaowl1



Category: Peter and the Starcatchers Series - Dave Barry & Ridley Pearson
Genre: Angst, F/M, Just angst, Other, Suicidal Thoughts, lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-16 19:26:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10577940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/athenaowl1/pseuds/athenaowl1
Summary: Just a thing that I wrote bc I was rereading Peter and the Starcatchers and I saw so much potential for angst????? So obviously I needed to bless the world with some Peter Pan angst that I wrote while doing my homework lmao.Also, I suck at making titles and summaries.Alternatively: WHY DOES MOLLY ASTER NOT EXIST ON AO3?????I promise this is more serious than it sounds.





	

It was during the middle of the night in the island of Neverland when a boy by the name of Peter Pan woke up.

Peter wasn’t particularly surprised, for this was a common occurrence. He slowly sat up, careful not to wake up Tinker Bell, who slept in his hair. Peter gazed at the Lost Boys fondly, but his smile quickly faded.

Peter hid it rather well, but every time he looked at the Lost Boys, he was painfully reminded of his old friends– the original Lost Boys, who had left the island, grown up, and started lives of their own many years ago. They had lived there before the starstuff that made everyone on the island immortal had come to the island.

He remembered once shouting at Wendy, “I never asked to be special! I don’t want to be special!”

That outburst had happened many years ago, but his feelings hadn’t changed.

A voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Molly’s told him, Think about you’re feeling.

How was he feeling?

Well, Peter was tired.

He was tired physically, of course, from countless sleepless nights, but he was also tired mentally. He was tired of his stupid daily routine of laughing and taunting the pirates and plastering fake smiles and smirks on his face and listening to Tink scold him and– he was just so tired.

His immortal state had seemed to preserve his maturity as well as his physical appearance, but lately it seemed like his mental age was catching up with him. He wasn’t sure exactly when, but his entire view of the world had suddenly changed.

Also, if Peter was going to be honest with himself, he was envious. He was envious of Lost Boys for their innocence, and of the Mollusks for being so at home here. He was envious of George for marrying Molly, and he was envious of Molly for being to grow up. Of the pirates for being so stupid. Of the mermaids for being so magical. Of people, regular people, who could grow up and have lives and then finally die.

Death.

Peter had begun to think about that more and more often. As a young boy, he was afraid of death, but now he wondered whether it was really so bad.

Maybe if he had someone to confide in, his life wouldn’t have been so difficult. But there was no one on the island that he could really talk to, and whenever he finally someone who he could trust, they refused to stay on the island. They wanted to grow up.

It was selfish of Peter to ask them to stay– after all, he of all people understood wanting to grow up. But he wanted them to stay.

Molly. James. Wendy. He had lost count.

And it was during the middle of the night on the island of Neverland that a boy by the name of Peter Pan sighed and fruitlessly tried to go back to sleep.


End file.
